


Be With Me So Jealously

by AggressiveStress



Series: Larry Stylinson One-Shots [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluffy, Jealous!Harry, Love, M/M, One-Shot, larry stylinson - Freeform, little bit of lilo but not really i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AggressiveStress/pseuds/AggressiveStress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One in which Harry is extremely jealous of Louis and Liam, and Louis is entirely fond of Harry. Also, they host a Christmas party and share a cute little day for Louis' birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be With Me So Jealously

_“Eggs and bacon! Eggs and bacon and toast!”_ Louis sang, wiggling his bum a bit because he was alone in the kitchen until Harry got up.  _“Oh! Gurl, get ‘em eggs! Get ‘em! Get that bacon while you’re at it, too!”_ he sang whatever came to his mind even though Maroon 5 was already playing loudly from the radio. Harry could deal with it or finally get his lazy little ass (not that Louis had noticed the size) out of bed.

He kept singing whatever came to mind, going around the kitchen but not touching anything. He wasn’t allowed to cook unless Harry was in the room with him. The boy couldn’t even make proper toast because their toaster had ten slots and who the hell makes ten pieces of toast at once? Although, he could mop the floor while ballroom dancing with the mop since none of the other boys would dance with him when he asked (which was often). He paused in his dancing around in his socks and Superman boxers when the kettle finally screeched; he rushed over to take it off the stove and make himself (and Harry) some tea. He learned at an early age that if he wanted to love tea as much as he does, he needed to learn to make it himself.

Once the two steaming mugs were finished and the tea delicious (he had some of Harry’s too, just to make sure it’s perfect), he took a sip of his and then went back to dancing. This time, though, he switched up the song he made up in his head.  _“Drop that thing! Back it up! Dammit, look at that rescue truck go!”_

“The bloody hell you doin’?” a voice make Louis jump and spin, mop at the ready.

Harry was in the doorway to the kitchen, shirtless and leaning against the doorframe like every morning. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the sight of Louis pointing a mop at him as if it was a weapon. Louis didn’t fluster. Harry had seen far too many of Louis’ moments for Louis to be embarrassed in front of him anymore. “Good afternoon, Hazza!” he chirped happily.

“Afternoon?”

“Yes, dear Harold, it  _is_ almost one in the afternoon, I’m afraid. You’ve once again slept in. Late night?” Louis grabs his hand and pulls him into the kitchen.

Harry didn’t say anything, letting Louis pull him around. They danced to the Ed Sheeran song that flooded from the radio; Harry really couldn’t dance but neither could Louis. Louis spun his roommate, making Harry chuckle despite still being in his sleepy state; Louis just gives other people energy. It’ll always be a wonder how Louis is so energetic in the mornings. Maybe it was because another tour was finally over and they have Christmas to relax, sleep in, and rest their voices. Or it could be that Louis was happy to be home and have some alone time with Harry (in no way was that romantic, of course). Once the song ends, Louis grins and passes Harry his tea. He puts away the mop and turns down the radio.

“No late night,” Harry shook his head, bandana keeps his curls from falling into his eyes. He would need to shower and slick his curls back soon; Louis didn’t like that he put them down like that. He was used to the bouncy Harry with the bouncy hair that Louis could caress and play with because the curls would slide easily through his fingers.

Louis shakes his head at himself, telling his mind to stop think about the X-Factor days. “What is it then? Jus’ that tired?”

Harry sighed, “No need to worry, Lou,” he grinned convincingly and finished off his tea. “So do you wanna do something today? Just the two of us?” Harry offered, flashing his teeth at Louis, who wanted to jump up and down and tell Harry that  _of course_ he wanted just the two of them to hang out, but then he remembered he had already made plans for the day. Curse Liam for choosing today to want Louis to come over so they can go Christmas shopping.

“Sorry, love,” Louis shrugged, “Liam beat you to it. I’mma go get dressed.”

Stomach churning, Harry watched Louis turn and walk away. The bathroom door shut behind him and Harry finally hit himself upside the head, cursing for not thinking of asking Louis in advance. They barely got any alone time anymore (they need their best mate bonding, Harry convinced himself), so Harry finally grew some balls just to be shot down. He went to the living room, dropping down on the couch and wondering what he could do today. There was always going out with Nick to some club, but it’s not nearly late enough for them to do that. Deciding he would think of something later, he simply turns on the Christmas movie channel on the telly and settled for a morning in.

That was cut short when Louis left the bathroom and Harry could only focus on the beauty that is Louis. With his beautiful defined tattoos dotting his skin, all of them having meaning and most of them matching one on Harry’s body. His hair was only slightly dry so it swept across his forehead in a feathery mess just like it had been during the X-Factor days. Those were the days Harry missed where he could shamelessly flirt his ass off with Louis and only a few people would point and go “He must be gay!”. Of course they were right, but Harry would just shake his head, smile for the cameras, and go on fake dates with people like Taylor Swift. Same for Louis, but he got stuck with a beard instead; hopefully, he would be getting out of that as a Christmas present this year.

“Hazza? You’re staring, pal. What’s wrong?” Louis snapped Harry out of his reminiscing.

“Wh-what?” Harry stuttered, looking from Louis’ chest quickly to his eyes. “Sorry. Nothing’s wrong,” he did his best to smile.

Louis opened his mouth to say something but then his phone buzzed and he pulled it out of the pocket of his black skinny jeans. Harry licked his lips, loving the sight of Louis’ plump thighs that he knew were perfect. A laugh slipped out of Louis’ mouth and he typed a quick reply, “That’s LiLi. See you, Hazza!” Louis left without another word.

Harry glared at the couch cushions for no reason until his own phone buzzed. He grabbed it and scanned the text from Zayn; they were to meet at the studio tomorrow morning. Something about making a short Christmas-themed video for the fans. Until then, Harry laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling or at the Christmas movie playing on the telly.

 

 

* * *

 

It didn’t stop after the get-together Louis and Liam had. Harry witnessed the two climbing all over each other in interviews and making jokes quickly between each other; Harry watched on, wondering what the hell they were bloody talking about. It was sickening for his stomach especially when they went to Milan and the two couldn’t stop talking under their breath. Louis would occasionally glance over at Harry, smiling a bit so Harry would at least let his frown twitch into a tiny smile that would at least satisfy management. Then Louis would turn away from Harry when Liam whispered something and Louis could only laugh loudly. The two men interviewing them didn’t seem bothered with it and neither did Niall or Zayn; what was going on with Harry then?

Louis started to notice Harry disappearing at night just to return early in the mornings. He would take his tea to his room, and Louis could only guess what he was doing these days. The answer soon came to him when Harry wasn’t home one day and Mr. Nick Grimshaw called their flat. Louis never had a  _problem_ with Grimshaw, but the way Harry always goes out with him in public just grinds his gears. Harry and Louis can’t go out for an afternoon together, but go ahead and bring in Grimshaw to take Harry to a gay club. Management seriously fucked them up sometimes; Louis was absolutely tired of it. So, when Harry returned from his night out at three in the morning one day, he cornered him.

“Where do you go?” Louis asked tiredly, leaning against the wall.

Harry jumped and spun around from where he was trying (but failing) to shut the door without it squeaking in the silence of the flat. “Lou,” Harry breathed out, eyes wide and looking like a deer in the headlights, “What’re you doing up?”

“Bugger off, Harry. Where do you  _go_?” he repeated, eyes narrowed because he was not in the mood for Harry to bullshit him. He was tired and he had a scheduled appearance with Eleanor tomorrow; they would be going shopping and out for milkshakes... again. Management really was terrible when it comes to creating the illusion of love.

“Nick’s,” Harry answered finally.

Louis felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the name that fell so smoothly, without any hesitation from Harry’s lips. He swallowed harshly and tried not to blow up, firing questions until Harry was cowering in a corner. No, he needed to find out what was wrong with Harry for the past week. Considering Harry had most likely been drinking, the boy wouldn’t be very easy to work with. He’s a dopey drunk- one of the worst.

“Why?”

“Why does it matter, Lou? I’m sleepy.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Louis bit his lip and looked down, slightly guilty. He was being mean to Harry in his drunken state, but he had no choice.

“Can I go to bed?”

“Tell me why you’ve been dodging around me first,” Louis demanded, straightening up and putting both of his hands on Harry’s shoulders to keep him from running off to his room. Harry was the type to flee when things got rough. Sometimes it really was annoying because Harry wouldn’t face the problem head on, always dodging and pretending like nothing was wrong; he created the perfect life in his mind.

Harry didn’t look at him, “I dunno what you’re talking about, Lou. You’re delusional.”

“You don’t call me Boobear anymore...”

“What has that got to do with anythin’?”

“Nothing- I just- Answer the damn question already Harry.”

Harry sighed, looking anywhere but at Louis. His mind was fuzzy, clouded with the alcohol Nick had pumped into him while Harry whined and complained about everything Louis. Every damn night Harry would leave and meet Nick at the closest bar and Harry would drown out all his problems and confusing emotions with whatever fruity drink Nick would buy Harry. Nick was good at listening, occasionally throwing in a comment about how Harry still ran back to Louis  _every damn time_ because Harry was hooked. He was hooked on a boy that might just think Harry is delusional for thinking he would ever want to be with Harry. Of course, Harry was wrong and Nick tried to convince him of that but Harry had none of it, just ordering another round of drinks to get absolutely  _smashed_.

“Do you want to sit down...?” Louis offered.

“That would be good, yeah,” Harry dropped onto their couch. He balanced his elbows on his knees and buried his fingers in his hair, eyes on the ground. “I dunno what to tell you, Lou, honestly...”

Louis watched Harry bite his thumb knuckle- his nervous habit. “Harry... what happened? You got weird after the Milan interview.”

“N-no, I d-didn’t,” Harry was already sputtering. He felt absolutely ashamed in himself.

“Hazza,” Louis prompted, hesitantly reaching out to touch Harry’s knee. Harry wanted to fall apart but he had already done that at the bar that night. Nick had rubbed his back but his touch wasn’t as comforting as Louis’ snuggles or Louis’ neck rubs or Louis’ back massages; all Harry could think about how Nick wasn’t  _Louis_  and maybe he shouldn’t be in that bar while Louis was home alone, most likely wondering where Harry had gotten to.

Something finally clicked in Harry’s mind that made the boy blush wildly and pull away from Louis’ touch like it burned him. “I can’t do this.” Harry got up and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him before Louis even had a chance to stop him.

 

 

* * *

 

When Harry woke up the next morning, his head was pounding and he felt like he needed to curl over and throw up, but he refrained. He groggily sat up and ran his fingers through his flat curls, trying to remember what happened after Nick handed him that third or fourth drink, but he had no luck. Even with his stomach falling all over itself, he managed to stand. There wasn’t any noise coming from outside of his room in the flat, which worried him because Louis was always there in the morning, making tea and awaiting Harry with some Tylenol for his hangover on those nights he came home smashed. Harry stumbled out of his bedroom, leaning heavily against the wall when his head pounded as if someone beat his skull in with a brick.

“Lou?” the scratchiness to Harry’s own voice made him wince.

There was no reply.

Harry got to the kitchen, switching on the lights because the kitchen was dark for once. He found two Tylenol waiting for him on the counter with a glass of water and a small pink sheet of paper. Taking the medicine and chugging down the water, Harry curled over the counter and waited for the medicine to kick in before he grabbed the pink note; Louis’ boyish handwriting made Harry smile and he wanted to kick himself because  _what is wrong with him?_

**_Dear Harold (aha),_ **

**_Had to go make an appearance with Eleanor (WAH :’( ) but I should be back around three, I think. Hold in there, love. That hangover may be nasty, but it’ll only last a bit! I might just bring a present home to you. ;)_ **

**_Love, Your Very Special Boobear xoxxxo_ **

Smiling to himself happily, he folded the note carefully and put it in his pocket to keep like he did with all of Louis’ notes. His bedside table drawer was filled with a bunch of pink, blue, green, yellow, red, and every other colored notes and all of them were from Louis. He went to add this one to his collection before he went to take a shower and throw on some half-decent clothing that didn’t smell like the bar. That was odd. Louis usually helped Harry get out of his clothes for bed when he was smashed; why didn’t Louis help him this time? The revelation had Harry wondering about what happened when he got home last night. Did he do something? Did he accidentally tell Louis about his feelings and now Louis didn’t want to touch him, thinking he might be leading him on? Harry rubbed his temples because he was definitely overthinking this.

He had only just heated up some tea when the phone rang and Harry answered, holding the device between his shoulder and ear while he made his tea how he liked it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Hazza! Sorry to probably wake you, but is Lou there?” Liam questioned happily.

“No,” Harry gritted between his teeth, something boiling in his stomach. Maybe it was bile but Harry doubted it. There was a short pause where Liam was murmuring to someone in the background. Harry didn’t explain, didn’t tell Liam where Louis was because then Liam would try to hang out with Louis after he was done with Eleanor and Harry just  _couldn’t_ have that.

When Liam finally came back on the line, he was less than thrilled. “Do ya know where he is?”

“Nope,” Harry lied, biting his thumb knuckle.

“I see,” Liam muttered and then spoke some more to someone in the background. “Alright, then. Well, I hope you feel better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh,” a pause, then, “Louis called us last night and told us what happened. No big deal, really. Didn’t talk much about it. Too choked up. Shit, I mean- Never mind, forget that part. You must’ve been pretty drunk though, to run away from Louis of all people. Emotionally unstable, no doubt,” Liam was rambling but Harry wasn’t listening anymore. It felt like he head was going to fucking explode.

“Wait,” Harry cut in, making Liam pause mid-sentence.

“Yeah?”

“ _I_ ran away from  _Louis_? Why?”

Liam hesitated, obviously, and then he sighed a bit. “Louis wouldn’t tell us. Seemed pretty upset about it, though. Was sputtering and Niall swears he heard Louis choke a bit, but Zayn and I don’t think Louis was actually crying. Louis never cries, well unless he’s extremely happy... what was I saying again? Oh. It really isn’t my place to tell you anyhow; he only told us a little like you got upset and ran off. Just... talk to Lou, yeah?”

“Yeah. Alright,” Harry promised, but he wasn’t sure if he was promising Liam or himself. “What did you call to talk to Louis about, anyway?”

“Nothing important. See you later!” and then Liam hung up hastily.

Harry placed the phone on the counter, drained his now-cold tea in the sink, and then went to lay down for a bit, figuring he could wait for Louis there. He did everything he could to stay awake. Watched telly, texted Nick and almost everyone else in his phone other than the boys, scrolled through Twitter and Instagram, and eventually gave into turning the channel to the gossip show. A camera was following Louis and Eleanor’s appearance today, and Harry wasn’t surprised to find that Louis was wearing alot of Hollister along with Eleanor- must’ve been what they were promoting this time. Harry turned off the telly, deciding to take a shower. When he got out, he threw on some sweats and then clambered back into bed. He couldn’t help himself and soon he was drifting off.

 

 

* * *

 

Louis didn’t knock.

Oh, no. If he was going to disturb someone, he would be doing it in style.

Which is why he threw himself on top of Harry, screaming Harry’s name at the very top of his lungs. Of course, Harry should be used to this treatment by now. They’ve been living together for three years, hopefully Harry has come to find that he can live with Louis as long as he’s alright with Louis’ antics. It wasn’t hard to get used to a person like Louis, someone so bubbly and light so he rarely ever got mad when Harry forgot to do the dishes or accidentally left a shirt somewhere random in the living room. Harry was none-too-pleased when he slapped a hand over Louis’ mouth and pushed him off to the side instead of on top of him.

“What?” the curly-haired boy moaned, tangling his fingers into his hair and curling up under his comforter. It’s so  _cold._  Louis seemed to agree with Harry’s thoughts because he quickly slid under Harry’s blankets, reaching over to drape an arm over Harry’s waist.

Louis puts on his most mock-sorry voice, “I’m so sorry to disturb you, love.”

Harry squinted one eye open, open enough to see that Louis was silently laughing at him. “Shuddup you wanker,” Harry hit Louis half-heartedly on the chest. “Whadya want?”

“To apologise,” Louis sighed, brushing Harry’s curls out of his face almost on instinct. “I shouldn’t have pushed you for answers last night while you were clearly smashed. I was a right prick, I know.” Harry pretended to know what Louis was talking about, but all he knew was that apparently he ran away from Louis. But what answers could Louis possibly be talking about that he needed so much?

It took a second but then it dawned on him: how he had been pissy with Liam ever since Louis started talking to him like he used to with Harry, how he had dodged Louis by coming home late sometimes smashed but sometimes not, how he had slept over at Nick’s a couple times to avoid this exact conversation. After all of that, though, Louis was apologising. He wasn’t yelling at Harry, complaining about his prick behavior over the past couple weeks. Instead, he slowly took hold of Harry’s hand and started playing with his long fingers. It was more something for his hands to do than something to show Harry affection; he just didn’t want to pressure Harry into spilling everything. No matter  _how_ much he wanted Harry to do just that.

Harry briefly shut his eye again before opening them both, staring back at Louis. “I should be the one apologising, Lou. Not you. You didn’t do anything than worry about me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Of course I don’t want to. But I know we have to.”

“Smart boy,” Louis smiled a bit, slotting his fingers between Harry’s. For once, he liked how his hand was swallowed up by Harry’s because he did have some problems with being older but smaller, but it was nice to know that Harry could always curl around him and block out the rest of the world thanks to his size. Louis wanted to pull his hand up and kiss Harry’s knuckles endearingly but he refrained and waited for Harry to start talking first.

Deciding to just rip off the band-aid, Harry rushed, “I was jealous.”

The short pause Louis took almost worried Harry until he replied, “Jealous? Of what, Hazza?”

“Liam,” Harry huffed, already feeling stupid for this whole thing. He broke eye-contact with Louis because any longer and Harry might’ve exploded; Louis was listening to him so intently that Harry just wanted to shut up and curl himself into a ball. However, he knew he had to explain. “You guys went out together to shop or something a few weeks ago, and I guess I got kind of jealous because I wanted to hang out with you.  _Alone_. For the first time in  _months_. And I mean real hanging out, not sitting in your bunk and watching cheesy romance comedies or funnily terrible shark movies on the tour bus while the other boys sleep.”

When Harry didn’t continue, Louis frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Is that all? Harry, why didn’t you just  _tell_ me?”

“Because I knew what you would do! You would’ve felt bad for me so much that you would call Liam and reschedule everything just because your flatmate was being a huge baby that couldn’t handle you leaving for a few hours. But no, it wasn’t just that. After you went out with Liam, you two started getting really handsy and stuff... You guys were acting like you and I used to before Modest tied leashes around our necks and dragged us away from each other. I didn’t like it; felt like I was being replaced. And it just made everything worse,” Harry concluded.

Louis didn’t know what to say anymore. Harry just poured out his motive behind his being standoffish and Louis had no fucking clue what to say. He could see Harry starting to panic, starting to pull his hand away from Louis’ like that’s what he was expecting Louis to do anyway, but  _no_. Louis didn’t want him to let go. He wanted to drag him closer, wanted to tell him just how special he is to Louis, wanted to kiss every area on his face and  _promise_ to never make Harry feel like he was being replaced again, but he couldn’t do that. Because he and Harry weren’t in a relationship and Louis felt that weight on his shoulders more than anything else because he loved Harry. He knew he did. Now that he was hearing Harry’s explanation, Louis wondered if Harry might love or like him back. Even just a small bit.

“Wait,” Louis tightened his grip on Harry’s hand, keeping him from slipping away. “Don’t- don’t go,” Louis insisted, sliding his body closer to Harry’s. Impossibly close. Oh jeez, Harry thought he might hyperventilate soon. “I would never replace you, Hazza. You are absolutely bloody  _impossible_ to replace. It’s just that I could talk to Liam about something I can’t tell you... And Liam was helping me out.”

Harry didn’t like that. What could Louis tell Liam that he couldn’t tell Harry?

“I don’t even want to know,” Harry muttered, shaking his head as best as he could.

Louis nodded, breathing out in relief. They laid in silence for a few minutes, shifting around to get more comfortable which ended with one of Harry’s legs pushed in between Louis’ thighs and Louis’ arm draped over Harry to keep him pulled close. Harry shut his eyes and Louis took that time to study the younger lad no matter how creepy that might seem. His curls were loose and silly like they had been in the X-Factor because Harry hadn’t dried them properly to get them more wavy than curly. His eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, cheekbones prominent and prompting Louis to reach out and touch... so he did. He cupped Harry’s cheek and ran one thumb over one cheekbone; Harry opened his eyes. And  _damn_ those eyes,  _damn_ that innocently gorgeous look Harry gave Louis _,_ and  _dammit_ Louis was going to do it.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and then he pressed his lips to Harry’s.

It almost ( _almost_ ) shocked Louis when Harry eagerly kissed back, fingers digging into Louis’ waist almost possessively. Louis shifted, getting Harry to lay flat on his back while Louis sort of slid on top of Harry, hands cupping his face and keeping their lips pressed together. It wasn’t rushed. Louis didn’t shove his tongue down Harry’s throat but he did nip just a little at his cock-ready lips that nearly drove Louis absolutely insane. Harry sighed happily, corners of his mouth tilting up in that award winning smile that Louis had fallen in love with. That Louis was totally and absolutely  _gone_ for because this was Harry. This was his best mate that clung onto his hips, keeping him in place and moving his lips against Louis’ like they absolutely belonged. Like they slotted together perfectly and Louis took it in, ravished in this feeling that only Harry could bring out in him.

 

 

* * *

 

Christmas rolled around and Harry decided that he and Louis would be the ones hosting this year. Everyone was coming around. The boys, their families, Ed Sheeran, Nick Grimshaw (after an hour of Harry gently sucking lovebites into Louis’ skin because Louis is pretty sure Nick still fancies Harry and he doesn’t like that, not at all), and multiple other friends. Harry was in the kitchen, cooking like his life depended on it while Louis hung up decorations, humming along to Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer that was playing from their radio. He honestly couldn’t be happier. It had only been a week of he and Harry officially dating and he was living in it, taking Harry on secret dates and Harry setting up candles and some whine with a cheesy romance comedy for the days Louis has to come home from making an appearance with Eleanor. It was all so perfect and Louis found that the fact it was around his birthday made it better because it’s way easier to remember their anniversary when both dates are so close.

Harry was way over his head with this hosting thing, though and Harry knew it. The day after tomorrow would be Christmas, and tomorrow was Louis’ birthday. He didn’t ask Harry if they were doing anything because he knew Harry would do  _something_ to make it special. Hell, all Harry had to do was show up and Louis would be satisfied. Oh, he is so gone for this boy and Harry knew it, too. Used it to get Louis to shower with him, getting Louis to let Harry wash his feathery hair, and he even got Louis to leave it completely natural. Harry didn’t like all the hairspray Lou put in it usually; Harry liked to card his fingers through the strands and only feel softness. Louis just enjoyed Harry playing with his hair. Only Harry. Harry almost growled at Niall when the Irish one tried to play with Louis’ hair a couple days before. Had Louis almost in hysterics when he reminded Harry about it that night.

“Boobear?” Harry called, and oh how Louis wished Harry calling him that didn’t give him a little sense of pride because that boy is finally his. Wiping his hands down on the floral apron around his waist, Harry stepped into the doorway where Louis could see him. Louis was half embarrassed by the apron but he was mostly fond. Fond of everything Harry did. It was a sickness, really.

“Yeah?” Louis finished hanging the last of the tinsel above the fireplace.

Harry looks around, trying not to gape because  _damn_ Louis had some good decorating skills when he actually did his best. “It, um, it looks good,” Harry was still studying the room until he suddenly came to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room and he couldn’t help but frown. “You didn’t decorate the tree?”

Louis looked at the tree then back at Harry, shaking his head. “I wanted to do that part with you,” he looked down a bit, almost nervous.

The grin that lifted Harry’s lips told Louis that he definitely did something right. Harry quickly swoops in for a peck on the lips. “Thanks. Later though. Right now, my peanut butter cookies are almost done,” and Harry was back on his way to the stove.

While Harry finished cooking, Louis took it on himself to go to the store and pick up the things he would need to make some festive drinks. All would at least be colorful to help with the holiday mood and get him through an entire dinner of questions being spat across the table at him and Harry; they hadn’t told anyone else about them yet. Planning to give the good news at the dinner table once all of their not-so-close friends were gone, Louis couldn’t wait to smugly grin at Nick. Not all drinks would be alcoholic- Louis’ sisters were coming, after all- but the ones that did have alcohol would have very little. It’s Christmas. No one needs to get drunk on Christmas. Once Louis was finished packing the groceries into their kitchen, Harry was setting the last plate of cookies on their dinner table and Harry looked satisfied with his handiwork.

“Didn’t know we invited the army to our Christmas party,” Louis commented dryly.

Harry sheepishly grinned, “I might’ve gotten a little carried away. But,  _Lou_ , there are  _so_ many recipes to choose from!” Now, that was the definition of a little boy on Christmas morning. The fond in Louis hurt his manliness- just a bit.

“Want to decorate the tree?” Louis said after trying every single cookie like Harry asked him to.

 _To make sure they’re perfect... like you._ Harry had said, big green eyes focused on Louis.

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand and eagerly tugged him over to the Christmas tree and the multiple boxes of ornaments stacked beside it. Louis opened the first box, pulling out the first ornament that was just a small music note with the stripes of a candy-cane. It was small but Harry first spotted it in a little tea shop- the first place they went for tea together ( _It’ll look so good when Christmas comes, don’t you think Boobear?_ ) Louis couldn’t deny him. He gave the ornament to Harry, who happily hung it around the bottom of the tree. It was tradition ever since they moved in together: oldest ornaments on the bottom and youngest at the top. Harry had put the dates of each ornament on a sticky-note that he attached to the ornament so they would know.

Another ornament appeared from the box, this one from the skiing trip Louis and Harry went on together; they had stopped in a waffle house for a coffee. The ornament was in the shape of a mountain with a snow-capping and it still smelled of syrup. Harry put it on the tree and they kept going through the ornaments, putting them in order on the tree. Since Harry was taller, Louis pulled out a camera to snap a picture of Harry putting the final star on the tree. The star was an antique that was passed down through Harry’s family; when Harry moved in with Louis, it had been a gift from Anne. Once the star was on the tree, Louis pulled Harry into his side and turned the camera to take a picture of them in front of the tree. Before he snapped the picture, Louis pressed his lips against Harry’s reddening cheek.

“Another one for the book,” Louis proclaimed, waving the Polaroid picture around.

“You twat. You know I look bad in that picture.”

Louis shook his head, “No. You just look happy and that’s the perfect picture.”

Their book was filled with pictures of holidays over the past three years- another tradition. Louis fixed the picture into the next available space after writing the date on the back. With the date, he added a small note for himself:

             ** _The first perfect Christmas of many. Harry is finally mine. :)_**

 

 

* * *

 

Nothing really changed after Louis and Harry officially got together (well except for the constant snogging and some groping in bed). When Louis woke up the next morning, Harry was no longer curled into his side. Louis rubbed at his eyes, blinking at the alarm clock and finding that it was only just after nine o’clock. Harry  _never_ got up this early in the morning unless one of the other boys pounced on him to wake him up.

“Hazza?” Louis grumbled, rolling out of bed but ending up falling to the bedroom floor, sheets tangled around his legs. “ _Fuck_ ,” he moans.

A soft laugh comes from the doorway but Louis refuses to open his eyes, to face his laughing boyfriend. “Lou? You gonna get up?” he laughs, walking farther into the room and setting something on the bedside table before kneeling next to Louis and starting to untangle the blankets without making it worse. Louis huffed.

“If I get up now, I’ll just fall again. Why are you awake, baby?”

When Louis peeks open one eye, he’s pleased to see a little blush across his boyfriend’s cheeks at the nickname. “I made you breakfast,” Harry chirps, finally getting all of the blankets to untangle. “Come on now, up you get.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Why not? Are you not feeling 22?!” Harry mockingly sang.

Louis instantly kicked out, his foot hitting Harry’s (nicely muscled) thigh while Harry laughs. Louis didn’t pause to gape at Harry’s very nice legs (he did that enough at night because Google is a very useful thing sometimes. It doesn’t count as stalking since he and Harry are already best friends). At the smell of bacon surely filling the room, Louis got up just to sit back in bed; he pulled the nicely set up tray onto his lap. On it was a plate of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and even some hash browns. The unmistakable loud growl of Louis’ stomach told him that he was, indeed, extremely hungry. Harry stood up, looking pleased when Louis stuffs some pancakes in his mouth and he moans because Harry had to be the best boyfriend/best friend there ever was and this food was delicious like always.

“Is it okay, then?”

“Better than okay,” Louis pulled Harry down by the back of his neck, placing a syrupy kiss on his lips. “Thanks, Curly.

“You’re welcome... but that’s only half of the surprise.”

“Sh, let’s just cuddle, yeah?”

Harry agrees happily, sliding into the bed on the side closest to the wall and they share the breakfast Harry had prepared. Of course, Harry had a fancy dinner planned along with two tickets to the showing of Romeo and Juliet in the biggest auditorium in Britain. But all of that could wait because Louis was resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, the empty plates and tray back on the bedside table so they could be closer together. Harry started to run his fingers through Louis’ hair, tugging lightly on the strands and twisting them around his fingers. The dinner was forgotten and Louis insisted they could get more tickets anytime they wanted, so instead they just stayed together for the rest of the day and it was honestly the best birthday Louis could ever imagine.

“I love you,” Louis speaks halfway through Meet the Fockers.

Not missing a beat, Harry says, “I love you too.”

“Love you more.”

“Not possible,” and he leans down and Louis leans up to meet halfway in a kiss that led to a lot more than Louis had originally planned, but-  _hey_ \- he wasn’t complaining. And neither was Harry.

 

 

* * *

 

Nick was the only one at the table that didn’t scream a  _“FINALLY”_ when Harry and Louis finally announced their relationship at the table the next night. The party had passed and turned into a dinner instead; most of the guests leaving to be with their actual families. Anne hugged Louis tightly, murmuring in his ear about how fucking long she had waited for this. Jay was practically squealing when she forced Harry to bend down some so she could hug him- like mother like son, Harry thought amusedly. Louis was slightly shocked at the raving reaction to their news- he couldn’t wait until the day he could tell everyone that Harry was his fiance, but that wouldn’t be for some time. (Harry was hoping sooner rather than later. He wants a baby for Christs’ sake.)

“Three years,” Zayn mumbled, looking at Louis like he was ashamed in him, “it took you  _three whole years_ to finally get this officially started.”

Louis smacked Zayn’s bicep, blushing but rolling his eyes like the comment didn’t get to him in the least bit. “Shuddup, mate. Harry was a little piece of shit then with his headbands and those  _terribly obscene_ yellow swimming trunks. Really, what were you  _thinking_ that day?”

“It got you to notice, didn’t it?” Harry grinned, squeezing Louis’ knee under the table.

“No language at the table, Louis William,” Jay reprimanded like it was a second thought, talking to Anne on the side. By all of the hand gestures going on, Louis knew he didn’t want to know what they were talking about. Their stepfathers were attempting to make conversation, but really just stuck to their wives.

Gemma took a long drink from her martini, staring Harry down. It wasn’t long before Harry shifted uncomfortably and stared back at her, “What do you  _want_?”

“I always knew you’d be the one to bring home a sugar daddy.”

Louis cracked up, almost sending the drink in his mouth flying before he managed to gulp down his mouthful. Harry moaned, burying his face in his hands because Gemma was so embarrassing sometimes. “Aw, it’s okay,” Louis cooed, rubbing Harry’s back while the rest of the table- the elder ones that got the joke- carried on their chuckles. “I like being your,” Louis cracked another grin, “ _sugar daddy_.”

“Shut up,” Harry mumbled but it was half-hearted and didn’t change anything. Louis squeezed Harry’s thigh under the table, absently rubbing it with his thumb after.

They all celebrated and Niall stood up to give a toast to Louis and Harry, which really just ended up with Jay and Anne crying a happily. Harry and Louis stuck to each other, holding on and Louis couldn’t help but smugly grin at Nick every chance he got. Nick left before ten, and Louis was proud to notice that Harry didn’t seem to care all that much though he did thank Nick for coming and he’d text him later. Lottie and Fizzy dragged Harry away from Louis long enough for them to push some of his curls into a tiny ponytail on the top of his head. Louis was so fond, he wondered if his heart would burst from it all.

When Harry kissed him at midnight- in front of Liam, Harry made sure- Louis knew that no one would be replacing Harry. Best friend or no. Because Harry is perfect. And he’s so fond, there’s no going back.


End file.
